


seeing you, seeing me

by sionnacha



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Compliant, Chapter 123, F/M, Kissing, Manga Spoilers, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 02:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21348832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sionnacha/pseuds/sionnacha
Summary: “what am i to you?”eren asks suddenly, bringing up their relationship out of the blue and an array of answers buzz in mikasa’s head. they’re standing not far from the refugee site, lingering, and eren is there, crying.she isn't sure how to respond; she can feel her cheeks burn, can feel how heart begins to thrum in her chest. he waits patiently for an answer; eyes wet and weary, filled with so much sorrow that she’ll never be able to understand—his golden orbs desperately searching her face.something stirs in her gut, and she finds herself afraid to say it aloud, to say what she truly wants. instead, she reaches for a word that is of comfort to her, that is familiar to both of them, because all the other things she wants to say are just out of reach.“you’re family.”-a canon compliant 'what-if' (sort of.)27/02: editing some errors. no updates.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 29
Kudos: 198





	seeing you, seeing me

“what am i to you?”

eren asks suddenly, bringing up their relationship out of the blue and an array of answers buzz in mikasa’s head. they’re standing not far from the refugee site, lingering, and eren is there, crying.

she isn't sure how to respond; she can feel her cheeks burn, can feel how heart begins to thrum in her chest. he waits patiently for an answer; eyes wet and weary, filled with so much sorrow that she’ll never be able to understand—his golden orbs desperately searching her face. 

something stirs in her gut, and she finds herself afraid to say it aloud, to say what she truly wants. instead, she reaches for a word that is of comfort to her, that is familiar to both of them, because all the other things she wants to say are just out of reach.

“you’re family.”

there is a shift in eren’s eyes — before they were wet and hoping, but now they’re doleful and resigned. something like dejection slipping into his expression, just enough for her to catch it.

soon enough, they’re interrupted by refugees and their fellow squadmates, crowding into a tent together as jean unwraps stolen azumabito liquor and sake from under his jacket. they sit together, they tell stories and sing songs, but despite everything, mikasa cannot help but focus on eren.

every now and then he spares her a glance, or offers her refills of drink, to which she always reluctantly accepts. eren had always been a heavy weight when it came to alcohol, whereas mikasa would often struggle to keep down a few glasses of anything. soon she finds that she’s drunk—far more so than she has ever been before. the world spins as she gets up, stumbling around as she begins to lurch out of the tent moving nimbly as to not disturb her friends who have all succumbed to a drunken slumber.

out on the dunes, she finds her body weak from the amount of alcohol consumed, a multitude of truths and fears threatening to spill from her in a drunken ramble to whatever person happens upon her. _i love him_, she wants to say, _i love you because you’re you_, she wants to tell him, but even now, she’s not sure such words would do justice. in her drunken haze, she doesn’t realise that tears begin to spill down her cheeks, but it’s only when a wretched sob slips out of her as she realises what has transpired.

she blew it. he wanted to hear it from her and she blew it—he watched and waited, he wanted her to say _something_.

all these desperate feelings threaten to siphon off whatever access to rational thought she has left, not helped as well by the amount of alcohol she has consumed.

“mikasa?”

she would recognise that voice from anywhere, needing not to turn as she feels eren approach, seeing his shoes sinking into the sand as he kneels in front of her—holding her right bicep, the other on her waist. he helps her rise and the look he gives her is that of concern, he doesn’t understand why should be this far away from the site, but she’s still so glad that he’s here, holding her. it sobers her up, just enough.

“why are you crying?”

mikasa almost laughs at the familiar callback—the lingering alcohol in her system more than capable of enabling her to chuckle as maniacally as she would’ve liked. but she doesn’t, instead sniffing her nose and rubbing her jacket sleeve over her eyes.

“it’s nothing… s’ok,” she slurs, face flushed pink, streaks from tears slipping down her delicate jaw. “just… too much to drink,” she says, and by the way that eren’s face twists, he doesn’t know whether to think that it’s a lie, or if it’s the truth. 

“it’s late,” he says with a hint a finality, tugging on her jacket, beckoning her to follow him. so she does, the pair heading back to the azumabito residence, briefly looking over her shoulder to check if anyone was following—but there is no one; just them, and the solemn breeze that settles over the landscape, the refugee camp glowing in the distance.

when they arrive back to the residence it is quiet—not a trace of anyone, not a thing out of place. It is only for the fact that the lights are on, and a fire roars, that there is evidence that anyone is there. 

they make for the stairs, eren slinging mikasa’s arm over his shoulders, his own hand clutched protectively at her waist. she doesn’t say it, somehow, but she absently wonders how eren had gotten so tall, had gotten so much stronger physically. “easy now,” he murmurs, holding her close, and mikasa’s hates that this act of kindness makes her heart race so badly, how eren’s touch felt so elusive to her that her chest would almost fold in on itself.

once at the top of the stairs, he lets go, and mikasa lets out a small whimper of dismay—eren does not notice, or at least she hopes that he hasn’t. It’s only when they’re standing on the landing does mikasa realise in her drunken stupor, that she forgot the key to the room. she empties her pockets, currency and lids for bottles of alcohol fall out and onto the hardwood floor; the realisation doesn’t sit well with her as she heaves a dry sob, burying her face in her palms. this was all so stupid, dumb mikasa can’t do a thing, can’t tell a boy she loves him, can’t remember the key to her room.

“mikasa,” eren calls, taking a hold of her shoulders, then her wrists, drawing her face away from the palms of her hand. She tries to level herself, stares straight ahead into the collar of eren’s shirt, then to his eyes; narrowed and squinting in confusion. “I don't have th’key,” she says, dramatic and punctured. that makes eren snort, makes him crack the tiniest of smiles, his own eyes filled with amusement. “you’re so beautiful when you smile,” she suddenly says, garbled through sobs. eren hears her, but seems to ignore it, judging by the way he turns and walks to a door at the end of the corridor. he opens it, beckoning mikasa to come closer. 

“you can stay with me tonight.”

he pushes the door open, stepping aside to let her in and she feels as if she’s about the burn alive within her own body. she doesn’t know what this is, doesn’t know if he wants something from her, if he thinks that she wants something from _him_. nevertheless, she steps over the threshold, listening to the tell tale click of his door closing in behind them before eren’s steps draw in on her. 

he moves past her, taking off his jacket and tossing it aside onto writing desk — she figures she should do the same, unclasping the buttons of her dress jacket, folding it to put aside. she watches as eren dresses for bed, stuck in place in the centre of the room as she watches his back, watches the muscles in his shoulders flex as he pulls on his sleep shirt.

he gives her some shorts and a shirt to sleep in, and crawls into bed, leaving an empty space for her. he turns over, back to her and says “i won’t look” as if that were ever a doubt in mikasa’s mind. she crawls in beside him then, head flat against the pillow, and the full strain of alcohol takes hold: the rush of blood in her ears is so loud, her thoughts are convoluted, and there is a layer of fuzz shading her vision.

she lies there for she’s not sure how long—the noise in her ears dying down, the taste of drink in her mouth becoming more and more apparent… and there is eren, breathing softly and soundly beside her. safe. if only it could always be like this, she thinks, bittersweet.

“are you awake?”

ah. he wasn’t sleeping.

“yes.”

after a moment she hears him heave a sigh, then he turns over as to face her. mikasa feels herself tense under eren’s gaze, as soft as it is. feels her fingers bunch up into the fabric of the bed sheets.

“did you mean that earlier?” he asks quietly, a slight tremor in his voice catching her off guard. “that i’m family.”

the question makes mikasa hesitate.

“yes,” she lies.

he hums, but mikasa thinks that he’s unsatisfied with that answer judging by the way his eyes look from her, how his lips fold into a straight line. he lies flat then — eyes closed and unmoving, but undoubtedly awake. the moonlight slipping through the curtains carving into his face as he rests, making his tousled hair gleam as it splays across his pillow.

“i—i thought that i was more than that,” he murmurs suddenly, sounding defeated, his own fingers now curling into the duvet. “i’m sorry.”

mikasa feels tears threatening to spill, so she closes her eyes in an attempt to blink them away. she swallows and lets out a shuddering breath, a confession on her tongue.

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” she leans over him, arm bracketing the other side of his torso and he peers back, eyes wide and longing. “i was dishonest before.”

she sees him swallow, throat bobbing as his lips part to say her name. he reaches up to brush hairs away from her face, dragging the backs of his knuckles along the scar marred cheek, tracing the curvature of her jaw with them, too. 

slowly, she descends and presses her lips against his: chaste and delicate. she raises herself again to gauge eren’s response. he looks content, at peace, and his fingers are cupping the back of her skull to pull her down for more.

it’s more insistent this time, more wanting and needing; his fingers knotting in her short hair urging a short gasp from her, relishing in how his lips feel against hers. she’s never done this before, even though she’s been asked on dates so many times. she has thought about it, kissing eren, that is, dreamed of it even—but she was always sure that it would never manifest.

gently, he takes her shoulders and rolls them over so mikasa is on her back, eren holding himself above her on sturdy arms. he presses down, until he covers her, and mikasa delights in how soothing and pleasurable his weight it, delights even more when eren kisses her again and again and again, delights in his expressions when she gasps into his mouth, tongue brushing against her teeth.

he slips off her eventually—arm sliding over her torso, as if to make sure that she was actually there and this was all real. he nestles his head in the crook of her neck and mikasa strokes his hair, feels his delicate breathing on her skin.

“wh—what did you really want to say earlier?” he asks, speaking the words against her skin in a whisper. mikasa doesn’t say anything for a moment but dwells on eren’s words all the same. there are hardly any words that could actually capture what he really means to her; he is her family, her rescuer, her greatest love, so many things to her and so many things to other people as well. but she eventually decides on something, and she thinks it more than fitting.

“you’re the most important person in this world to me.”

she feels eren shudder beside her, then he stiffens, relaxes, and she wonders if he’s aware just how hard her heart is beating. his hand resting on her slides up, over the curve of her breast, finally resting on her neck, fingers soft on the column of muscle, pulling her into a kiss again.

he deepens it, and mikasa can feel a fire beginning to stir inside her. she grasps at him, pulls him close until she feels that luxurious weight on top of her once again, slips her hands down his back—fingers gripping his shirt with all the want and desire she carries for him.

every time he comes back to meet her mouth again, she can’t help but sigh into his own. that taste of liquor still remains, but she doesn’t mind, because he’s desperately clutching at her. his nose slides in alongside hers, just as his tongue brushes her own—maybe is salacious, but she doesn’t care, because it feels _right_.

the kisses and touches die down after a bit, eren curls in at her side, his presence warm and inescapable, his soft breathy panting subsiding after a few moments—it would be a lie to say that she hadn’t been left breathless as well.

eren sleeps, falls into a heavy slumber, and mikasa strokes his head, watching him as his face phases through a series of emotions. 

mikasa, however, does not rest; she lies awake, dipping in and out of sleep, restless. something sits with her, something that she cannot put a finger on—so she quashes it, or at least tries to, but it still keeps her awake. eren hadn’t said anything back to her—he had just kissed her senseless. perhaps she’s being ridiculous, it’s probably nothing, besides, she imagines that whatever _this_ was, had confirmed something between them.

she had hoped that it was love.

—

eren leaves. there is no trace of him and mikasa begrudges herself for looking away this one time.

(maybe, this entire time with eren, she had not been looking at all; had not been curious about his dark eyes and dour expression, had not been curious about how absent he was, and we she had, all he had said was “memories.”)

it leaves her feeling hollow—that maybe she could have done something, could have deterred him, could have been _more_. she feels sick.

sometime later, a letter arrives. she’s thankful that it is from eren… but not so much for the contents. it outlines a plan, a plan of destruction and terror and she cannot understand. maybe she never would have been ever able to understand. maybe this was all just meant to be.

they make for liberio—mikasa and her comrades, afraid of what they’ll happen upon when they arrive, afraid of what they’ll have to do.

whatever transpires, mikasa knows for sure that nothing will ever be the same again. the world was cruel like that.

**Author's Note:**

> eremikas how are we all doin.
> 
> (comments and kudos are greatly welcomed!!)


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